


fatal attraction

by ribbonelle



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cannibalism, Colony Omicron, Gore, Love at First Sight, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9671789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/pseuds/ribbonelle
Summary: Depth Charge had been in Colony Omicron since the very beginning, had dedicated his life to defend his people. He thought he would be dedicated to that for the rest of his life.He was wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MercuryMapleKey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/gifts).



> HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY MERCURYMAPLEKEY!!!  
> im almost a week late bc hhh school and i whined a lot when i was writing this mostly because there were so...many loopholes. but here it is anyway. im sorry for everything! feel free to smack me for that one tag up above that doesnt fit hahahhh
> 
> AU setting is where rampage was never known as x, he wasn't on omicron as a prisoner. he had always been rampage, and depth charge is still the chief of security for omicron.  
> i used a lot of tfa side characters for the extras in this one! (they all share the same frametype bee and wasp did). and some familiar beast war names, but mostly bc they looked good where i put them...i guess? some are more important than others.  
> yeah.  
> its been a while since i wrote tf sooo i hope this is okay niki! like i know you say you love dc/rampage no matter what but i do hope this does your ship some sort of justice. or at least like, its Content. god knows we need more of that. forgive me for mistakes! or for terrible characterization!
> 
> anyway happy belated birthday!!! youre a fabulous person and im always happy to have met you

An unknown spaceship. A small one intended for travelling, and Depth Charge tilted his head as he considered the visual feed on the screen before him. Mechanisms usually didn’t visit Omicron during this time of the year; if they did at all. It wasn’t rare, but it wasn’t common either. Depth Charge wondered what the stranger’s intentions were.

“His documents are all clear, Sir,” the sentry on duty today reported through his comm; a new kid fresh off training, he spoke all stilted-like, too formal; “Should we grant entry?”

The last time someone outside the colony came around, it had been an excited newly bonded couple from Cybertron, wanting to see the all the off-planet Maximal colonies. That had been exciting. And quite exhausting, since the two femmes kept trying to pry Depth Charge away from his post, asking him for a tour of sorts. Hopefully this stranger wouldn’t be the same.

“Yes. I’ll get to the hangar, see what brings them here.”

“Sir yes sir. Quillfire out.”

The newbie was very rigid. An admirable quality for a law enforcer, but it couldn’t be healthy for him. What did Depth Charge know about health, though, he was the workaholic.

“Want me to come with?”

Depth Charge glanced back to see Glyph smiling at him, a bunch of datapads settled in her arms. “Could always count on you,” he said gruffly, because it was true, and also because Glyph was too damn efficient for her own good. He made his way out of his office to head to the hangar, and Glyph fell easily in step beside him.

“Hope it’s someone interesting. Or someone decent enough to not come knocking on your door daily,” Glyph said cheerily, and Depth Charge had to groan at the memory of overenthusiastic tourists. He’d rather be tossed into a horde of Predacons.

“Whoever it is, they better not be trouble.”

Glyph laughed, shaking her head, “They better not be! You don’t bring trouble to Omicron, or the sheriff will mess you up. Right, Depth Charge?”

The minibot was the one who started calling him the sheriff; Security Chief of Colony Omicron was his proper title; and everyone just followed in her footsteps. It wasn’t proper, but Depth Charge couldn’t say he hated being called that. Sheriff Depth Charge had a nice ring to it.

“Right.”                                   

The stranger had exited his space pod, standing in front of Quillfire and his partner on duty, apparently speaking to them. A red, large, mean-looking mech, and no visible weapons on their person. Their appearance was intimidating. Depth Charge was not easily intimidated, though.

They looked his way once he arrived, and gave him a cordial smile, hands clasped behind their back. Their voice was surprisingly cultured when they spoke.

“Greetings. The head of security, I presume?”

“That’s right. Name, faction, and origin? For security purposes.”

“Of course,” their chuckle was low and gruff, “I am Rampage, a proud Maximal. I am from Cybertron, but I do consider myself a free spirit as of 5 orbital cycles ago. I wander from colony to colony to see what they have to offer.”

Depth Charge raised an eye ridge, “And what do you think we have to offer?”

Rampage’s smile was sharp, he had bared all his dentae, “Cuisine.”

"Excuse me?"

"Cuisine, my friend. I have gone to multiple colonies simply to sample the local brews of energon. It is...a hobby of sorts."

 Depth Charge gave Rampage a long look, before shrugging, “Don’t know if Omicron’s local energon is anything special though. All the good stuff is back on Cybertron.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

He really doubted that. But Depth Charge dismissed it. Some mechanisms did odd things in their life cycles, “Well, let’s get you registered properly anyway. Just don’t do anything that could get you locked up.”

Rampage made a noise of agreement, which was good enough for Depth Charge for the time being.

“Administration will take you from here.”

Glyph stepped forward and smiled her diplomatic, winning smile, handing Rampage the datapads in her arms. Depth Charge’s cue to leave; he had heard her welcoming speech too many times. Back to a day’s work.

He was going to keep an optic out for this foreigner, because it was his duty. Rampage seemed odd, but Depth Charge knew what to look for in mechs with malicious intent; Rampage seemed in the clear. For now.

Depth Charge would be watching him.

/

Depth Charge had a routine he followed, one honed from countless stellar cycles living on Colony Omicron. He wasn’t necessarily true to it, but there were certain things he needed to do on certain days. Mostly work-related things, but it involved him going around the colony meeting people, and he liked that. He liked being around his colony. After all these years, they were family.

Being a figure of authority for a small-sized colony like Omicron wasn’t so bad. Depth Charge knew everyone, and everyone knew him. It was a good bond between a mech and his people, and Depth Charge appreciated that greatly. He wasn’t someone who lived off of the gratitude of other people, but there was something about the smiles of thankful mechs, about the way he was usually greeted with kind words. There were some delinquents in the colony, as there always will be, but he had known these rebels since they were sparklings, too. He could always tell when something was amiss with the society. There really weren’t many of them at all, not even 60 mechanisms in numbers.

So when he started seeing the tourist multiple times while going about his usual patrol route, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence.

The people were accepting of Rampage, despite the initial wariness and intimidation because of the way he looks. But the residents of Omicron were kind-hearted, almost regrettably so, and took to the stranger just as quickly as Glyph had. It was Depth Charge’s duty to be their watchful eye, the suspicious one. So he approached Rampage after seeing him around for the fourth time, now talking to Moscardo, a laborer in the community.

“Depth Charge! How’s it going, mech?” Moscardo greeted, pausing in his conversation with Rampage, “Any trouble today?”

“Not yet,” Depth Charge smiled, glancing at Rampage, “How’s everything for you, Mos?”

“Pretty great, Sheriff. Just met Mr. Rampage here! Interesting fellow.”

Rampage’s chuckle was low, too close, “So are you, Moscardo.”

“That’s nice. Can you excuse us for a while, though? I have some business to discuss with Rampage.”

Moscardo didn’t even question it; most didn’t with Depth Charge. Simply nodded and waved them goodbye, before going back to whatever he had been doing previous.

He didn’t quite understand the smile on Rampage’s face when Depth Charge finally turned to him, but he also didn’t care, “How are you liking Omicron?”

“It’s very charming,” Rampage said, smiling still, “The people are lovely; there’s a vast difference when mechanisms live in a small colony compared to a big city. People here are much more pleasant.”

“Good to hear. I’ve been seeing you a lot today.”

Rampage’s smile faltered, and there was no doubting it. Depth Charge had been right. He didn’t quite expect Rampage to laugh quietly and lift his hands in surrender, like he was caught red-handed, “Ah. So you have. I have been waiting for a chance to speak to you, but you seemed occupied with the happenings of the colony. I suspect you are on a patrol of some kind?”

Depth Charge raised an orbital ridge, “I am. What do you want to speak to me about?”

“We could talk about anything, really.” At the look Depth Charge gave him, Rampage laughed, shaking his head, “This is quite awkward, isn’t it?”

“Not too much.”

“How kind. I enjoy your company, Depth Charge. I just thought that it would be nice to be with you again. I don’t mean to disrupt your schedule, or any plans you have made.”

He watched Rampage carefully, trying to figure out the mechanism’s intention. It wasn’t always he was spoken to this way, with the members of his colony, or even any other mechanism he had met, so it was pretty baffling to Depth Charge.

It wasn’t that bad a feeling.

“Maybe later. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your company in return, but its work hours and all. If that’s alright?”

Rampage smiled at him, “Of course. Till we meet again.”

/

Glyph was grinning wide, practically thrumming with glee as she held up the bouquet of energon treats, complete with a large blue bow holding the ensemble together.

“He is _so_ into you, it’s unreal _._ ”

Depth Charge did not look up from his datapad, “What the frag are you talking about.”

“This!” she brandished the bouquet, “It’s the third gift he’s sent you in three days and look!” She plucked a note out of the gracefully arranged cubes of candies, and read aloud, voice too giddy, “’For Depth Charge; protector of Colony Omicron. A token of appreciation for the most charismatic mechanism I’ve met. Love, Rampage.’ Love. _Love!_ ”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“It’s _literally_ what he wrote!”

“Then he’s getting ahead of himself. He’s being suspicious. Probably trying to get in my good books to try something shady. I don’t trust him.”

Glyph set the bouquet on her desk, and put a hand on her hip, “Alright, maybe, but he could also just like you a lot. You’re very attractive, Sheriff, I wouldn’t blame him at all.”

Depth Charge scoffed, “You in cahoots with that foreigner now?”

“Not yet! I think I’ll help him get to you; it’s not his fault you don’t think about dating at all.”

“Don't get crazy about it. I still don't think about dating, no matter what you do.”

“God, you're no fun,” she rolled her optics, but placed the bouquet on Depth Charge’s desk gently, like it was a sparkling, “I’m glad someone’s this into you, really, it’s nice to know that people still have good taste.”

He had half a mind to be displeased, but was mostly amused, “You’re laying it on too thick. You’re not getting a raise, Glyph. There’s no benefit to this.”

“Well maybe I don’t want a raise! Maybe I just want to see you take a damn break every once in a while, to go on a date or whatever else.”

“Thank you. But no thank you. Enough of this talk.”

Glyph made a face at him, but left him in peace, going out his office door with nothing more than a dismissive hand wave, closing it behind her. Depth Charge shook his head, wondering sometimes why he put up with such trivial things. But Glyph was good at her job.

He continued reading over the reports on his desk, and only gave the energon treat bouquet Rampage had sent him a brief glance. He plucked one of the blue cubes and popped it into his mouth. It melted on his glossa almost instantly, rich and sweet.

Maybe Rampage did have good taste.

/

When he had the time, he often visited the only bar they had, just to sit and be alone for a while. There were usually a lot of mechanisms around, and while he was addressed by almost everyone, they never really bothered him after he sat down. Everyone knew Depth Charge liked his alone time in the bar. And they respected him enough to leave him to his solitude.

Being sheriff of a small colony had its perks.

Carrera’s place was nice enough, with a decent selection of energon. He entered the establishment and was instantly greeted by every patron in the bar, people raising their drinks for him. A tip of his head as usual, and he took his usual seat at the counter, rolling his shoulders a few times. Carrera brought him his favorite brew without being prompted; some obscure Rodion mixture; and left Depth Charge to his own thoughts soon after.

He had to admit. It was nice how people respected him, sometimes.

Depth Charge had gone through about four articles in their daily online newsletter when the bar went a little quiet suddenly, quiet enough that he turned to look behind him, wondering what had happened.

Rampage had entered, as imposing and unfamiliar as ever. Not really thinking about it, Depth Charge waved him over, and Rampage acknowledged him with a little wave of his own. The other mechanisms all visibly relaxed once they saw their Sheriff call the stranger over; Depth Charge silently wished they weren’t _that_ obvious, but what was he going to do? They were a really small community after all.

“Hey,” Depth Charge gestured at Carrera as Rampage took a seat next to him, “What’s your poison?”

Rampage tilted his head, scanning the bottles on the shelves behind the bar counter. “The local high grade would do. I’ve had my share of exploring yesterday, and I have to say, Omicron has excellent energon quality.”

Depth Charge did feel a little proud of that, “The people work hard. We have one refinery but it does its job.”

“A fine job, truly,” Rampage thanked Carrera once his drink arrived, and took the time to bring it to his face, most likely smelling it. His sigh afterwards seemed to be a satisfied one. He looked at Depth Charge, and smiled. Something about that smile made Depth Charge feel on edge. He turned forward again, lifting his drink.

“You’re quite close with your people, aren’t you?” Rampage asked, like it wasn’t really a question. Depth Charge didn’t look at him directly at first, opting to down his glass before glancing at the mech. He wasn’t sure what was it about this mech that made him feel uneasy.

“I’m the security chief. And this is a very small colony. I’ve been here since the colony first started out. I think it makes sense.”

“Ah, it does. You would know every single person here. That’s delightful. Tell me,” Rampage swirled his energon with a flick of his wrist, “Is there anything interesting around that a stranger might like to visit? I’m leaving tomorrow and I plan on visiting a few places before I depart.”

Depth Charge scoffed, sharing a glance with Carrera, who looked amused in return. “Well I’ll tell you Rampage, there isn’t anything around here that I haven’t gotten sick of yet. You’d be better off asking Glyph. Or the locals.”

“You really don’t go out much, do you? Shame. Is there really nowhere you think of fondly here in Omicron?”

Depth Charge mulled it over, and one place in particular came in mind. He didn’t even think he had somewhere he thought of fondly. Perhaps he was getting softer with age. “It’s not exactly on Omicron, but I suppose I do like heading out to Starbase Rugby every so often. It’s not that far off, probably 15 kliks from here. It’s got good atmosphere.”

“Starbase Rugby,” the words seemed heavy and significant rolling off of Rampage’s glossa, “I’ll be sure to remember it. What makes it special for you?”

“Nothing much, really, I just make a habit out of meeting some friends I have there. You did ask me for a place I liked.”

Rampage chuckled, “Precisely. I would have never taken you for a sentimental mech, Depth Charge.”

The appendages on Depth Charge’s back flared at the statement, defensive, “I’m not. I just—

He noticed Rampage’s humming before he finished speaking. Depth Charge raised an orbital ridge again, incredulous, “You’re teasing me.”

“Forgive me,” Rampage grinned, not sound apologetic at all, “It’s difficult not to. You’re very expressive.”

“Expressive? I’ve heard _really_ differently in my lifetime, mech.”

“In your own way, you’re one of the most expressive mechanisms I have ever met,” Rampage leaned forward, and Depth Charge didn’t think he was teasing at all now, “Your emotions are so _intense._

It was an odd thing to say. Rampage’s tone was alarming, almost, and Depth Charge couldn’t look away from the mech. There was…something on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t on the life of him figure out what.

There was something about Rampage’s optics.

“You’re a peculiar one,” Depth Charge made himself say instead. Carrera had left to wipe his glasses elsewhere, probably reading the atmosphere. Depth Charge couldn’t even tell what sort of situation he was in right now.

Rampage’s smile was sharp, his optics intense and bright, “Maybe. I know what I like.”

There was no mistaking his tone of voice, “…Are you flirting with me?”

“Trying my luck. You’re quite the persona, Depth Charge.”

Depth Charge wasn’t a stranger to romance. Well, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a romantic relationship, but he knew the works, he knew what it was all about. It wasn’t something he needed. It had been a while since someone was _this_ blunt with him, however, and Rampage wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes. There was something Rampage that was intriguing, too, Depth Charge didn’t think he had ever met anyone like Rampage.

“I’m flattered,” Depth Charge said humbly, “But I gotta tell you, I’m married to my job. Ain’t really looking for anything else.”

“Yet another shame,” Rampage sighed after a pause, but he smiled at Depth Charge, “Not a chance that I could attempt to seduce you away from your duties?”

“I really doubt it.”

“Alas, perhaps fate has something else in store for us.”

Depth Charge chuckled at the romanticism. Odd talk from an odd fellow. He offered nevertheless, “Friends, maybe?”

Rampage’s smile widened, “Friends?”

“Yeah, I think being friends is alright by me.”

“Friends, it is. Honored to be of your acquaintance, Depth Charge.”

“Same here.” Depth Charge raised his glass, and Rampage did the same, clinking their glasses together. Cheers. Depth Charge thought it was ridiculous, yet fitting.

Being in Rampage’s company after that wasn’t so bad at all.

/

They parted ways outside Carrera’s bar. Depth Charge to his own apartment, and Rampage to his own devices, for him to spend his last night in Omicron however he liked.

Depth Charge considered inviting Rampage over to his place. Considered the implications of such an invitation. Thought twice, because while Rampage seemed alright and apparently really into Depth Charge, it didn’t seem like a smart thing to do. He did agree they be friends after all.

So they parted ways.

Maybe fate will bring them together some day.

/

 

Fate had nothing to do with what came next.

 

/

His internal alarm went off and Depth Charge was awake in an instant, years of routine ingrained in his processor. He went through the motions of the morning; cleaned up, had breakfast, checked the Omicron Daily. Nothing too interesting was going on. But that was good news for him.

Depth Charge was ready to leave in an hour. He rolled his shoulders once before opening his apartment door, to head to work.

He stopped. There was something in his way, a round object settled on the welcome mat before his apartment. It had not been there before. Depth Charge looked around and saw no one around. Depth Charge looked down at the object and inspected it.

It was staining his mat.

Suddenly Depth Charge—felt—that perhaps—

He bent down and picked it up. And.

Lifeless optics stared at him, faded blue, and Glyph’s throat tubing dangled in the air beneath her decapitated head, dripping pink spots onto Depth Charge’s welcome mat. Her mouth was slightly open. She looked surprised.

Static.

His fingers went slack and he didn’t mean to; but Glyph’s head fell from his hands and fell with a heavy, wet thunk on the floor. It rolled a little. A puddle was forming at the end of her throat tubing, ripped open and leaking.

There was—

It didn’t feel real. Nightmares started out this way. Surely it could not be real.

But Depth Charge was awake and Glyph’s head was still in his field of vision and the _horror_ he felt made his spark constrict, painful and brutal, and Depth Charge—He was the Chief of Security. There had been a murder in the colony.

His first instinct is to call Glyph—he dismissed the idea with racing thoughts and went inside his house. Took a cloth in his kitchen and. Used it to lift up Glyph’s head and brought her inside. It was automatic, yet not. He put some plastic underneath her so she wouldn’t, bleed everywhere and—Depth Charge made another call. To his office, to whoever was on duty.

(How many times had Glyph visited him in his apartment? A handful of times, mostly to drop things off or check on him after some cases; she always brought these little baskets filled with treats, or just a bottle of refined energon, she was—she was a _good_ person so why—)

There was no answer. Depth Charge called one of his deputies. There was no answer. He called another. There was no answer.

Depth Charge left his house; left Glyph; to rush to his office. Surely there was someone around. An investigation needed to be made. Justice— _punishment_ needed to be served. He wasn’t a stranger to death; so many mechanisms had died in his lifetime, but he had never seen such deliberate cruelty. Who would do such a thing?

Why would they leave her in front of his door, as if—

There was no one on the streets. Which didn’t make _sense_ , there were always mechanisms up and about during the early hour, getting ready for the day ahead of them. But there was no one, the streets were empty, everything was quiet, and with every step he took Depth Charge became more convinced that he was actually having a nightmare.

He didn’t live far from his office. But the building was empty, from the reception desk on the ground floor to the elevators. Depth Charge felt insane. He ran up the stairs, not wanting to be in the elevators and wait when he could be faster, and barged into the doors of his office to see…nothing. Nothing had changed.

Except.

A datapad, on his desk. One he had never seen before, a colour that was not the standard they used for all official documents. He approached his desk and picked it up, activating it. He didn’t think. He needed an answer.

White letters appeared on the screen.

_Hello, friend._

The datapad exploded into pieces, shards of glass blasting him in the face, and then everything was black.

/

 

His reboot felt like it took a longer time than usual. He came to with his visuals still offline, left with his thoughts and his audio input. Depth Charge felt as if he had just been woken up from an incredibly deep stasis. A bad dream. A nightmare that had everyone gone somewhere he couldn't follow.

Terror seized his spark like a crushing grip, as he remembered. He had no idea where he was, or what had happened, and he couldn't move—Out of fear? No. He simply couldn't move.

“Oh, you're a delight, Depth Charge,” a voice suddenly spoke up, making him jump. Too close, it came from his right; if he reached out, there would be someone there. He did not reach out. He knew that voice.

“Rampage?”

“I’m here, dear friend,” A touch to his arm, and Depth Charge flinched violently away. Rampage laughed at that, but it was no longer the deep chuckle he had before. Depth Charge was horrified. It was Rampage. Was it Rampage who—

Glyph.

Rampage made a sound that Depth Charge could not comprehend, but made him try to edge away still. He couldn't move. His limbs were not obeying him.

Something trailed along his face, over his shoulder. His faceplate was gone. He couldn’t remember feeling this terrified in his life.

“That’s it,” Rampage said, too close, too casual, “There you go. Remember what happened.”

Depth Charge did not want to. The thought was too insane, the idea that Rampage had killed Glyph. He had not seen any sign of murderous intent, had not seen _anything_ past the friendship Rampage tried to form with him. Was that a lie? Was this his fault?

His optics flickered to life, recalibrating in the final stages of his reboot. It came online and he saw Rampage, first of all, on one knee before him. His smile was the one he had always worn. Depth Charge was in his office, on the floor, frame leaned against his desk.

Rampage was too close.

“I’ve been having so much fun during your sleep, Depth Charge. It filled me with anticipation to discover how _intoxicating_ you would feel after you woke. And Sheriff,” Rampage laughed low, against the plating of his neck, “You did not disappoint.”

Rampage was insane. It was in his voice, in the words he spoke, in his optics and Depth Charge could not put a name to it before. Rampage was crazy.

“You won’t get away with this,” Depth Charge’s head was spinning and Rampage could _not_ go unpunished, “They’ll know what you’ve done to Glyph.”

Rampage laughed, and it really was different. Unbridled, almost ecstatic cackling, as if he was full of glee. He put a hand on Depth Charge’s shoulder, and squeezed, “Who’s ‘they’, Depth Charge? Did you not notice? There is no one but you now. Don’t you remember?”

Empty streets, when he was running to seek for help. Dead silence, in the usually busy mornings.

“They’re all dead. Every single one of them.”

“Liar!” He surged forward to knock Rampage down, to shut him up, but his limbs would not comply. He couldn’t move them, no matter how hard he tried. Rampage’s arm on his shoulder remained. Rampage shook his head, squeezed Depth Charge’s shoulder once before standing up. As if to offer comfort. Depth Charge felt sick.

“I suppose Cybertron would be sending someone here soon. It would be odd for a colony to be so quiet with their daily reports,” Rampage sighed, “I wish we had more time. But this will be enough. Excuse me for a moment.”

Depth Charge stared at the ground, trying to make sense of everything. No one was alive? Was it possible to kill every single mechanism in Omicron during a recharge cycle? Depth Charge didn’t have to think too hard about it. It was possible. There had not been many of them. He never thought—He should have been more careful. Should have been stricter with who they allowed into the colony. He hadn’t expected a Maximal to have done this to them but—

He hadn’t expected Rampage, who only seemed to follow him around like a lovesick turbofox, to be capable of mass murder. He didn’t—

Did Rampage do this because of Depth Charge?

“I brought you a present,” Rampage said, and Depth Charge’s head snapped up to look at him, instantly on alert. Rampage had someone over his shoulder, a mechanism. Their colour scheme was familiar.

Rampage set the mechanism down onto the ground, a few feet before Depth Charge. Depth Charge stared. He knew this mech.

“Starbase Rugby really was lovely, you were right,” Rampage cooed, running a hand down the side of the supine body on the floor between them, a touch so intimate that Depth Charge felt nauseous, “Do you know how fast he admitted that he was an acquaintance of yours? It was impressive. He must have been really proud to be your friend. I understand the feeling.”

Depth Charge was shaking. Tigerhawk. His friend. He was angry, too angry to think clearly, “He has sparklings, Rampage. He has a family.”

Rampage looked up with surprise, “Oh? Do you think I should have brought them here as well?”

Depth Charge didn’t say another word. Rampage’s smile was predatory, “Have you known this fellow for long, Depth Charge? Answer me.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Hm? Long enough to call a dear friend, at least?”

“I don’t _know_ , damnit, what are you going to do to him?”

“You fear for him. I suppose that makes you close companions,” Rampage looked down at Tigerhawk, and his mouth twisted, “How lucky.” Depth Charge only noticed the blade in Rampage’s hand once the mech had held it up and close to Tigerhawk’s chest, and if—if Rampage were to do to Tigerhawk what he did to Glyph, Depth Charge didn’t think he could—

“I want you to watch, Depth Charge,” Rampage said, voice cutting through Depth Charge’s frantic thoughts, “I want you to watch carefully.”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t look away. Rampage brought the knife down easy, cutting a square in Tigerhawk’s chest, as if he was a medic trying to perform surgery. He wasn’t cutting deep enough to kill Tigerhawk, and Depth Charge stared, trying to make sense of his actions. Tigerhawk was unconscious, but not dead.

The light of his spark was bright blue, illuminating Rampage’s face as he pulled away the square metal he had cut off of Tigerhawk’s chest. Depth Charge heard the click of Tigerhawk’s spark chamber; Rampage’s hand was in his chest now, doing something; he couldn’t see from where he was situated. It was obscene.

He was so focused on Rampage’s arm almost halfway inside Tigerhawk’s chest that he almost didn’t notice the glance Rampage spared him, or the smile that graced Rampage’s faceplates. Rampage pulled his arm back, slowly, and seemed to tug at whatever he had his fingers around in Tigerhawk’s chest and—

Rampage had his hand on Tigerhawk’s spark. Depth Charge could tell, from the shadows that now darkened Rampage’s face.

Rampage tugged— _harder—_

Tigerhawk’s optics shone bright in an instant, as his entire body was wracked with spasms, fingers curling and uncurling. His arms lifted, slow and weak, shaking so hard he rattled. Tigerhawk’s hands found purchase on the arm that Rampage had inside of him, and he tried to—pull it out, get Rampage away, but had no strength for it. Rampage laughed, the sound terrible and full of delight, and jerked his arm once, hard enough that Depth Charge heard something crack.

Tigerhawk’s limbs dropped like a puppet’s with its strings cut. And—

Rampage turned his head to look at Depth Charge once more, and Depth Charge couldn’t look away. Rampage brought his hand up; a chunk of crystal in his fist, flickering weakly, the blue wisps of the spark contrasting vividly with the red of his plating; and. He didn’t take his optics off of Depth Charge as he opened his mouth wide, and placed Tigerhawk’s spark crystal in his mouth. He bit down with a crunch.

Depth Charge doubled over and purged all over the floor.

It was overwhelming. He had seen cruelties in his lifetime, but _this_ —

White noise in his head, Depth Charge looked up, vision blurred, to see Rampage chew. He swallowed, licked his lips, sighing in what sounded like real pleasure.  

“You’re a monster,” Depth Charge said, head reeling. His throat tubing felt raw, “You’re a monster.”

Rampage hummed, and left Tigerhawk to approach Depth Charge, getting on his knees before the mech, “I envy the words that leave your lips,” Depth Charge wanted to offline his optics; couldn’t. Not when he could see the bright pink of Tigerhawk’s energon staining Rampage’s dentae. There was something in Rampage’s right hand. “Your emotions are the best I’ve ever felt, Depth Charge.”

He leaned closer, and Depth Charge tried to move away, as far from Rampage as he could manage. It wasn’t far. Rampage brought his hand up and Depth Charge finally saw it; a shard of Tigerhawk’s spark, the blue light dim in between his fingers. He jerked harshly backwards, slamming his head against the desk, but there was no escape.

“Open up,” Rampage pushed the spark shard against his exposed mouth, other hand grabbing Depth Charge’s face, pressing hard onto the mechanisms of his jaw. His mouth opened involuntarily, and Rampage pushed the shard onto Depth Charge’s glossa. It _burned_. He gagged, struggling against Rampage’s fingers. He bit down on them hard; hard enough that Rampage retracted his hand; and spat the shard out. It clattered to the floor and went dark, sparklight extinguished altogether.

Rampage tutted, patting Depth Charge’s cheek, “Honestly, friend. Where are your manners?”

Depth Charge snarled, thrashing so that Rampage would stop touching him. It was too much. He didn’t feel sane. The nodes on his glossa were singed, almost numb, but Depth Charge was too aware of what has been in his mouth. He was going to purge again.

“You’re fantastic, Depth Charge. Can’t you see why I had to do it? You’re perfect this way.”

“ _Frag you!_ ” Depth Charge couldn’t stand it, couldn’t _stand_ Rampage’s voice, “Frag you, you _creep_. I’ll kill you!”

Rampage shuddered, obviously enough that Depth Charge could see the way his mouth opened a little in a shaky ex-vent. Rampage leaned against him, head resting on Depth Charge’s shoulder, and he’d _do_ something, tried his hardest to reach up and strangle the monster before him, but his limbs still wouldn’t move. Rampage pushed his face against Depth Charge’s neck, breathed in deep.

“I know you will try. And Primus, I _adore_ your anger. But fear suits you a lot more.”

He felt a hand on his chest, right where his spark was. There was no describing the terror he felt at the idea of Rampage killing him the way he did Tigerhawk.

Rampage laughed in delight, “Beautiful. You’re beautiful. I wish I could take you with me. I want to do so many things to you.” Rampage stroked his chest, the tips of his fingers catching on the seams and Depth Charge couldn’t think, his processor filled with white noise. If—if he were to die like Tigerhawk—

“Get away from me,” Depth Charge hissed, because as terrified as he was, he was _repulsed_. If Rampage truly had killed everyone in his colony, then perhaps he should die, too. Part of him wanted that. But the other half, wanted to kill Rampage so _badly,_ he was shaking from it.

“On the contrary,” Rampage whispered, still too close, front practically attached to Depth Charge’s. He had the blade in his hand again, Depth Charge could feel its tip pressed into a groove in his chestplate. Rampage pried the metal open, the pressure exerted onto his frame making Depth Charge grunt in pain. His spark chamber was exposed.

He was going to die. Rampage was going to eat his spark. Part of him—thought that this was fitting, but fear was ice in his lines and he _knew_ Rampage could feel it, judging from how he was humming as he reached in for Depth Charge’s spark chamber.

It was indescribable. Depth Charge had never allowed anyone his spark before, not even mechanisms he trusted and—the foreign touch was overwhelming. His frame jolted, as Rampage caressed the crystal inside, and he _hated_ it, terrified and furious and then Rampage was _squeezing_ —

His spark crystal cracked. He screamed; so hard he felt his vocalizer pop; and he felt Rampage’s mouth on his cheek, felt the vibrations of his loud laughter. Depth Charge felt mindless. His sanity was slipping away.

“You are mine,” he heard Rampage speak to him, in the midst of all the white noise, “You’ll be thinking of me, always. You’ll never forget me.” Rampage let go of his spark, but not of him, holding him even tighter, so close it felt like their frames would meld together.

“Until next time, dearest friend.”

/

 

They were all dead. Rampage had not been lying.

Depth Charge had to name them, one by one, as the Cybertronian officials gathered the dead mechanisms. A massacre. People he knew. All murdered savagely, torn apart one way or another. Their sparks gone.

He could still feel the burnt nodes on his glossa.

He said nothing of what had transpired in his office, when it was just him and Rampage, save for Tigerhawk’s demise. People had to know. His family had to know.

Rampage left not long before the Cybertronian officials arrived on Omicron. They had found Depth Charge paralyzed and delirious on the floor of his office, sparks spitting from his open chest. They found nanites in his system that blocked his limbs’ motoric receptors, and a hairline crack in his spark.

A hairline crack that Depth Charge was acutely aware of, once he was lucid and mobile again. A hairline crack that Rampage put there.

Colony Omicron was gone.

There had been similar cases of solitary, random murders across the galaxy; mechanisms with their sparks missing. No one had ever survived an encounter with Rampage before, no one had ever been able to put a name and a face to the serial killer they’ve been trying to pin down.  The Cybertronians had thanked Depth Charge for his information.

Depth Charge had said nothing in return. There was only one thing on his mind.

Depth Charge needed to find Rampage and kill him.

He thought of nothing else for stellar cycles to come.

 


End file.
